


you make sure i'm warm whenever i'm cold

by jbhmalum



Series: prompt fics [8]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Airplanes, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, rating for the the two swear words in there, they're just babies!!, this takes place in 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28569372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jbhmalum/pseuds/jbhmalum
Summary: If there was one thing Michael had to say he hates the most in this world, it would be being on an airplane.
Relationships: Michael Clifford/Luke Hemmings
Series: prompt fics [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2005603
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	you make sure i'm warm whenever i'm cold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brightblackholes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightblackholes/gifts).



> hi hi, me again!  
> this is quite short, what i wrote for the prompt "We can share." that the lovely [hazel](https://allsassnoclass.tumblr.com/) sent me! i hope you like it!
> 
> enjoy! <3

If there was one thing Michael had to say he hates the most in this world, it would be being on an airplane.

The idea of doing so had always slightly terrified him; being stuck on a big flying thing that he has absolutely no control over for hours on end certainly couldn’t be anyone’s idea of a good time — well, being stuck anywhere for many hours with a bunch of strangers around is a rather unsettling idea anyway, but that part might just be Michael hating being around people. He’d also heard way too many stories of people driving their loved ones to the airport so they could catch a flight, only to never see them again.

These were the kind of thoughts that plagued him for weeks before the band took their first flight to London last December. He’d been close to shitting his pants, unable to sleep or eat properly. The boys had made fun of him for it, obviously — by which he means Ashton and Calum; Luke had kindly ignored that anything was happening, although Michael could see that was only because he was just as scared.

(Maybe they’d spent more than a few nights on Luke’s kitchen floor drinking soda and playing stupid games during those few weeks when sleep wouldn’t come.)

Once on that first plane, he’d realized how much scarier it was to actually be  _ on  _ it. That his fears weren’t for nothing. Not that they were all lost forever in the middle of the ocean or anything, but he’d gotten a seat close to the window, and he’d been forced to watch the ground disappear as his stomach protested and the man next to him snored loudly. It had been the worst experience of his  _ life _ .

No flight after that has been any better. Including the one they’re on right now.

They’ve been up in the air for two hours, and Michael wants to be anywhere but here. Well, almost.

“My mom keeps saying everyone back home is excited,” Luke says from the seat next to him. He’s wrapped up in a fluffy blanket, fingers fiddling with the bottom of it. “Do you think it’s true?”

Michael shrugs. The only thing he can think about right now is that they’re very high and the ground is very far away and that the knot in his stomach hurts.

“It’s scary playing in Aus,” Luke continues. “Like, more nerve wracking. It was last time, anyway. You got more nervous too, right?”

Michael shrugs again. He’s not sure Luke really wants him to answer, anyway. Because Luke is a bit like Michael when it comes to flying, and the longer flights make him the most nervous. But while Michael mostly curls in on himself when he’s nervous, Luke tends to ramble about everything under the sun to distract himself.

So Luke goes on, not seeming to care about the answers he doesn’t get as Michael makes sure not to look out the window.

He only listens with one ear, tries to take deep breaths as he rubs his arms while wishing he’d had the thought to bring a blanket of his own. Luke looks like he’s incredibly comfortable right now. From what he can see from the corner of his eye, Calum and Ashton are both wrapped up in big hoodies a few seats down. Michael is not afraid to admit he’s jealous. It’s rather cold up in the air, and having left late summer in a t-shirt to go into the Australian winter isn’t helping him get any warmer.

Closing his eyes, he sighs, focusing as much as he can on the sounds around him instead of what’s happening inside him. He tried listening to music at first, but the rumble of the plane only seemed louder with his earphones on, and each note he caught sounded dissonant and distressing as a result. At least Luke’s voice is soothing, even if just as background noise, and even with the menacing rumble that accompanies it.

It might even be enough to lull Michael to sleep, if he puts his mind to that. He’s not exactly tired, and it’s quite bright outside, but that would make the ride go by quicker. Maybe if he felt more at ease and wasn’t on the edge of his seat waiting for something disastrous to happen he could– oh  _ ouch. _

“Ow,” he shrieks at the sudden pinch he feels on his forearm, interrupting his train of thought. He opens his eyes to Luke, clearly retracting his hand. “What the hell, Luke?”

“You weren’t listening. I asked you a question.”

“Well no need to fucking hurt me, jeez,” Michael hisses harshly, rubbing at the sore spot — although the slight ache is gone already — but Luke’s face falls at the words, and Michael feels guilty immediately. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I just– I hate being here. I wish we didn’t have twenty more fucking hours to go.”

“I know.”

“I hope every time someone’s asked what my dream superpower was, I said teleporting. I hate planes. Get me out of here. But also home.”

“Yeah.”

Luke is smiling softly, his spiky hair a mess on his head and his sympathetic eyes strikingly blue. Not like the ocean down below, but not exactly like the sky they’re swimming in, either. Maybe there’s nothing earthly to compare their colour to; Michael wouldn’t be surprised.

Luke is otherworldly, and Michael has been trying to accept that fact lately.

“What was the question?” He asks before he can start going down the Luke-is-so-pretty rabbit hole.

“Oh. Are you cold?”

It’s Michael’s turn to frown. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, you’re kind of shaking. Your hands are. Also your skin looks like a chicken right now.”

“Shut up! My skin does  _ not  _ look like–”

“It’s not an  _ insult, _ it’s just what skin does when–”

“Oi, will you two tone it down?” The man in front of them asks, not very nicely, and Michael feels himself turn red. Luke is worse, though, so Michael focuses on that. The colour on his cheeks makes Michael want to kiss them. Feel their warmth against his lips.

“We’re sorry,” Michael says instead.

Someone walks down the aisle towards the back of the plane then, and air brushes Michael’s stupidly bare arms, making him shiver.

“Fine,” he admits despite himself. “I’m cold.”

He really is. He’s taken to rubbing his arms again, and he’s sure Luke is making fun of him next to him.

Which is why he’s surprised to feel something fluffy on his skin, the edge of Luke’s blanket extended towards him. When Michael looks up, Luke is smiling hopefully at him.

“Here,” he says, nudging Michael’s arm with his blanket again.

“What? No, I’m not gonna take your blanket, then  _ you’ll  _ be cold.”

“No, I mean.” Luke shakes his head. “We can share. It’s big enough.”

“Oh.”

There might be a reason for Michael to say no, but he can’t be bothered to think of it right now, so he shrugs before taking the offered blanket.

As it turns out, it’s not exactly big enough, so they have to shuffle a little in their seats until they’re pressed close together, Luke’s warmth spreading to Michael’s skin before the blanket’s does.

“Better?” Luke asks once they’ve settled in a way that seems convenient to the both of them, Michael’s right leg over Luke’s left one, Michael’s face hidden against Luke’s shoulder.

Before anything in his head can tell him not to, Michael leans up slightly, letting his lips graze Luke’s cheek like he’d wanted to earlier, barely there, before leaning back down on Luke’s shoulder.

“Better.”

His response is the silence that follows, but he can still hear Luke think loud and clear. Michael lets him. He doesn’t focus on it, just on the fact that his stomach has stopped dancing weirdly, and that he doesn’t feel so bad. Then Luke’s chest heaves before relaxing as he lets out a soft sigh, and Michael can picture the content smile on his face.

“Good.”

Under the blanket two hands fly to Michael’s, cradling them against Luke’s chest. It’s the thing that makes Michael warm up entirely, until all the cold has melted from his body.

“To stop them from shaking,” Luke says as an explanation.

Michael squeezes Luke’s hands, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he nuzzles Luke’s neck.

“Right, of course. To keep them warm.”

Maybe a twenty two hour flight is worth it, if he gets to spend it wrapped up in Luke.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!  
> comments/kudos are always appreciated :)  
> also i'm on [tumblr](https://michaelownsmyheart.tumblr.com/) if you want to come say hi!


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